Summary:
Unable to resist the wanderlust any longer, Dunstan
has robbed his father’s strongbox and set forth
on his quest for adventure and glory.

In his naivete, Dunstan casts his lot in with a band
of scurrilous cutthroats, believing them to be adventurers
sharing his noble pursuits.

Having narrowly escaped from having his meagre
possessions pilfered by his erstwhile companions,
Dunstan gets stuck with the bill for their repast,
which he pays with ill grace, resolving to get even. In
the ensuing squabble at the Riven Oak, Dunstan
makes his escape, only to blunder into the Warders,
who are on his trail. By distracting him with the tale
of his recent plight, Dunstan manages to persuade
the chief Warder to return to the hostelry to set matters
aright, and in so doing hides his true identity. In
the confusion at the Inn, he makes good his escape
on a “borrowed” horse, and heads for the Upplands,
where he spends the night in the stable with
his horse, in the hamlet of Huddlefoot.

CHAPTER 5
The Upplands were desolate and wild beyond the
Crosshill road. The vegetation was sparse and low,
broken only occasionally by a little copse of trees or
thickets of brush. The ground was stoney, slopes
steep and shot with layers of rock. The wind played
over and around the hills, moaning softly to itself in
sorrow at its solitude and seemed to tug at Dunstan’s
cloaked form hoping thus to gain attention. A lone
bird circled high overhead, sending a raucous cry to
grate upon the nerves of any who happened to hear.
The rider hunched upon himself, wishing that his
journey had taken him elsewhere. Sliding rocks
brought him around with a jerk, but seeing that it
was only the boy, Mellerd, tumbling a bit when he
lost his footing, Dunstan resumed his unseeing
inspection of the inhospitable terrain ahead. The
interminable trek finally did end — at least until the
morrow’s sun renewed it — but the sky grayed long
before evening, and a lurid gloaming brought the first
cold drops of rain.

The horse needed no urging to make for a sheltered
hollow, where trees and tall grass tempted the beast,
and the man was happy for the shelving hillside
which promised at least some protection from the
downpour to come. Dunstan hurriedly unsaddled his
mount and tied it to one of the trees with a long rope.
By the time he returned to his dry cranny, the boy was
there, huddling as far away from Dunstan’s gear as
the space would permit.

“Why do you still follow? Go back to your master,
and leave me to my business.” There was no force
behind his words, however, so the lad said or did
nothing. Hunching down and trying to get
comfortable, Dunstan noted that there was a pile of
sticks at the boy’s feet: “Can you make us a fire?”

Mellard nodded and set about kindling a small
blaze. There was soon a cheery glow and pleasing
warmth reflecting from the rocky wall and roof of
their abode. “It’s a right nice fire, it is,” he said to no
one in particular, and rubbed his hands
appreciatively before it.

Dunstan also moved close to the friendly light,
feeling relaxed for the first time that day. “Come
now, let bygones be bygones. Tell me why you persist
in following?”

“It was you who tricked me into guiding you —
what’s to happen to a runaway ‘prentise? ‘Course
there ain’t a doubt. Don’t like serving that mean old
devil anyways, so whys to go back to get beat until I
can’t walk no more.” After thinking a bit on his
statement, Mellerd added, “It’s you who should get
whupped.”

“Don’t talk such rubbish! If you hadn’t been
dishonest, you’d not have been in a position of having
to serve — but as I just said, let us forget all that.
What have you to gain by following me? Naught lies
ahead but a perilous journey, for while I can expect
honorable service with some noble lord, what can
you do?”

The boy pondered this for a long moment,
shrugged and said: “I know not what’s to happen to
poor Mellerd, but not knowin’ ain’t so bad. I’ll take
my chances.” With these words he turned away from
Dunstan and began taking out the few scraps of food
he had left.

“Shan’t we make the best of both our situations
then, Mellerd?” Dunstan inquired with a comradely
tone. The boy looked at him wonderingly at this
unexpected change: “That’s better! Here’s what I
offer: You can take service with me — no tricks this
time. In return I’ll see to your provision and
protection, for ahead lie many dangers.”

“Service? What’ll I have ter do?”

“Why not much . . . there’s the horse, and meals,
and caring for my garments . . . no more.”

This was more like it, thought Mellerd. In a trice
he was agreeably accepting orders from Dunstan, as
he readied a meal and placed the saddle and packs in
a more convenient spot. His new master doled out a
reasonable portion of food to him when the viands
were spread and even gave him his former covering,
the saddle pad, to sit upon while they ate.

“Listen to me, boy, for if you are to serve a man
who will soon be a knight and champion you must be
fit for the station. Now, while we rest, as we travel,
whenever you work nearby, you are to receive
instruction from me in manners and speech. You are
far too rude at present, but if you apply yourself
vigorously I can perhaps make something better of
you.”

“Thanks, Sor! Did yer say champion and knight?”
Mellerd was overwhelmed by the thought of serving a
knight. “Would I be yer squire then?”

“Nay, certs not! — Well, that remains to be seen,”
he added. “For the nonce you are merely my servant.
Serve well and learn from an Honorable Gentleman,
and who knows what the future will grant to you.”

Much encouraged by these words, the boy set to
with a will and hung upon every word Dunstan
uttered. The whole turn of events was most
satisfactory to Dunstan also. He now did no menial
labor whatsoever, and tutoring the lad helped pass
the miles of hilly travel. As an added benefit, Mellerd
urged an early halt one evening in order to set snares.
His master was dubious, not only of his ability but of
the likelihood of game as well. The next morning he
awoke to the fragrance of rabbit roasting on a spit, so
thereafter Dunstan decreed that snares would be set
every evening as soon as the boy had completed
setting up the night’s camp. During the course of the
week it took to arrive at the village of Deepwell,
both travelers actually fleshed out a bit and became
more fit.

***

“There is a bit of tricky work ahead of me,
Mellerd, so you are to say nothing. Answer only if
spoken to directly and then only sufficient to
accomplish wat was asked.”

“Yes, So — Sir.”

“You will say nothing regarding the Overking’s
mark on the steed, THE WRIT I once showed to you, nor
how you came to be my servant, do you understand
my rede?”

“Aye, master Dunstan.”

“Good. We will then proceed into the hamlet.
When we arrive at the place most likely to be able to
provide us with new mounts, you go on about the
business of provisioning while I deal with other
matters.” The lad nodded his understanding once
again, and Dunstan was finally satisfied. The road
was hot and dusty under the noonday sun, but
Dunstan felt a shudder despite the heat, for he could
end his errantry in the burg before him. Arrest was
certain if word had come to this place or if he
mismanaged the deception he meant to practice.

Two travelers in worn garments came down the
pike into Deepwell under the watchful eye of Evan
the Trader. A large young man with curly head bared
to the elements rode proudly upon a tired-looking
horse, while an urchin with straggling locks and
unshod feet walked at the animal’s head. Evan noted
that although a sword was in evidence at the rider’s
side, they had few possessions, so the observer
immediately lost interest in them. There was little else
to do for the moment, however, so he gazed idly as the
pair made their way into the village and separated.
The tad headed for the rear of the ostel, while the
mounted fellow approached the place where the
trader leaned. Evan watched him bring the horse into
the shade of the barn and dismount, looking about
for the proprietor.

“Good day to you, traveller,” Evan spoke. The
young man appraised the speaker carefully before
replying.

“Good day to you. Are you the liveryman?”

Evan shook his head: “No. I am waiting for the
fellow’s return in order to conclude my business and
away from this ham.” The traveler seemed uncertain
of what to do, so the trader continued: “Dolph sits
over his noonday fare at the ostel — where he’s likely
to be for some time yet. If you wish to stable your
mount, and you don’t mind caring for the beast
yourself, go inside and choose any empty stall.”

The young man looked nervous and irritated. After
a moment he evidently reached a decision: “Thank
you, but I’ll await the return of Master Dolph — I
have other business with him.”

At this Evan pondered a time. The traveler wasn’t
the ordinary kind one found on the road, although
the Heavens knew there were always enough odd ones
and rascals during the best of times. This one was
possibly gentle born from his manner, but something
was certainly bothering him, for he was ill at ease.
After studying him hard for another moment Evan
said: “Perhaps I can be of service to you. Allow me to
introduce myself, Sir: I am Evan the Trader, dealing
in the rich furs from Nehron-land.”

“My pleasure, Sir. I am Dunstan of — no town. I
have seen the pelts from Nehron in my fa— travels;
they are rich indeed. You must do a fine business.
But, no, you cannot help me. I am here to obtain a
pair of new mounts, for my own beast is spent, and
my servant must also ride; we have long to go ere we
reach our destination.”

“Pardon my presumptiveness, friend Dunstan, but
I trow I can serve you better than master Dolph. It so
happens that I have a brace of spare steeds, and I’d
happily part with them for a fair price.”

The young man drew nearer: “Will you take my
horse in trade if I buy from you?”

“Sorry, but that I cannot do. As soon as I complete
my affairs here I am setting off to Rheyton and
thence to Nehron’s forests. Still, you should have no
trouble striking a bargain with Dolph, for with some
good feed and a few days rest your present mount will
be back in shape and command a good nob.”

“Rheyton and Nehron you say? and leaving
today?” The young fellow was smiling a bit now, and
Evan wondered what changed his mood. “Would it
be possible to accompany your train?”

“Certs. Especially if you can use that sword as well
as I guess you can. Beyond Rheyton-Town the tracks
are narrow and ill-kept, and the lands about abound
with gallymen and bandits — may a wanion take
them all! If you’ll agree to accompany me all the way
there as an additional guardsman, I’ll ask nothing
else in return.”

“Done, master trader, for we intend to journey
there in any event.” It was now Evan’s turn to be
surprised, for he could imagine no purpose for such a
trip by the pair; however, he remarked on it not, for
‘he was right glad to have another stout blade to
protect the caravan of goods he was to lead north to
exchange for the furs. Dunstan went on: “It will take
me a time yet to manage my own business here. How
soon will you be leaving?”

“Your star must be smiling upon you today, sir, for
I had planned to be off with the dawn. Various
difficulties arose to detain me, and it now seems that
no start will be made for at least an hour — perhaps
two. . . Damn the fleshpot here! My fourrier still lies
in a stupor. He is sleeping it off, for nothing would
serve to arouse him, and I am making the best of it.
Now about the fee for the mounts you wanted —”

During the bargaining Mellerd appeared, but
Dunstan motioned him off. The boy disappeared,
and a price was soon agreed upon. For three scruples
gold (which Dunstan groaned over parting with) he
obtained a really fine stallion for himself and a small
palfrey of uncertain worth for his servant. An
additional bit of haggling bought harness and saddle
for the second horse at a cost of a few more silver
coins. Trader Evan then set off to put his new funds
to work, while Dunstan awaited Dolph’s tardy return.
That worthy finally wended his way to the livery
stable, being well steeped in ale and jolly as a grig.

This couldn’t be better, thought Dunstan. A
drunken man will not look too carefully at marks —
on horses or on paper. He at once engaged the man in
conversation, and before long the former mount of
the Warder had been sold. Dunstan didn’t agree to
too low a price, but neither did he demand its full
value, thus insuring a quick sale. But as Dolph was
leading the animal into the barn he spied the
Overking’s mark. This brought him up short.
Dunstan saw what had happened, and he
immediately rose to the occasion. Taking Dolph by
the arm, he told him a tale in tones most confidential
regarding service of a highly secret nature in behalf of
Eddoric: “Can you read, good master Dolph?” The
man, flustered by drink and the confidence of one of
the Overking’s henchmen, mumbled that he could
make out some words. “Nonetheless, cast your eyes
upon this document, but read it not too closely, for
there are things put there at the Overking’s command
which cannot be viewed by any save myself and
certain high nobles —” Here, Dunstan displayed the
Writ, and Dolph was totally deceived. He bid the
young man farewell with utmost respect, feeling
honored to be able to be of such service to and in the
confidence of his sovereign.

“One last thing, goodman Dolph, there are certain
spies who actually dare to work against the wishes of
our Royal Lord — men who seem to be honest
officials. You must not only keep this matter to
yourself, but the mark upon the horse must be shall
we say ah — enhanced so as to be unrecognizable . . .
you understand?”

“Assuredly, Sir. It shall be done as you suggest, for
the wild Kimbry often brand their animals in
fashions similar to — well, it shall be done,” said
master Dolph. And a highly satisfied Dunstan took
his leave.

The trader’s caravan was encamped at the edge of
town, and Dunstan decided to go there immediately
after locating Mellerd, for he feared missing its
departure even though the fellow had thought it
would be several hours hence. Undoubtedly, Evan
wished to leave the place behind as soon as possible
so as to avoid further roistering on the part of his
crew, which meant that he would await no tardy
travelers. A tug at his sleeve brought his attention to
Mellerd. The boy had returned to lingering at the
kitchen of the ostel, keeping watch for his master’s
approach.

“Prices here are awful! I bought nothing, for I
knew you’d not approve . . . whatever we are to have
you’ll have to decide upon, for they ask a com for a
jug of small beer!”

Dunstan merely smiled at this: “Don’t worry about
it, my good boy. We shall need only a few luxuries,”
and he then rattled off a surprisingly long list of
choice items Mellerd was to acquire. “You see the
two steeds before the livery? Well, the roan stallion is
mine,” and pausing for effect, “the bay is yours!”
Mellerd’s face seemed all mouth, so large was his
smile of pleasure.

“Oh, THANK YOU, Sir, I don’t know how —”
“Just get on about your duties, and save the
thanks. Naturally, I’ll take the cost out of your wages.
It cost two scrups, and at a reasonable rate of interest
I make it you owe me a year’s service at the wage of
one silver noble per month.” The boy never trained at
counting, and overcome at the ownership of his own
horse, made no objection to either the assumption or
the twenty percent interest. Rather, he happily ran off
to complete the purchases.
 

There were matters Dunstan wished to handle
before departure also. He first stopped at the smithy,
hoping to find something more to add to his
armaments as befitted a warrior guarding a valuable
train. Somewhat disappointed, he nevertheless
managed to acquire an iron cap, an old shield of
Nehron manufacture — although stoutly made and
well rimmed and bossed, and a long lance of ash.
Leaving these with the smith for a moment, he asked
where garments could be purchased, and received
directions to the cott of the tailor. Going thence, he
found that coarse shirts, galligaskins, and heavy
woolen cloaks were all that were readily available.
These items he bought for himself, two of each, as
well as some linen. He also purchased needles and
thread. Finally, he went to the cobbler’s and was
lucky enough to find a pair of riding boots which fit
well enough, a jack, and a wide balderic from which
to hang his trusty blade. After paying for all of these
items, Dunstan found his pockets empty of all save a
few odd plumbs, but his gold was hardly touched,
and he was well pleased with the course of the day’s
events. Time to hurry now, thought he, for his
errands had taken longer than he had anticipated.

Mellerd’s eyes were round with surprise as he saw
his master approaching with helmet, shield and
lance, a bundle swinging beneath the shield. The
latter item was tossed to him, for Dunstan would take
no time to don his other garb now. Off they galloped,
folks turning to stare at the warlike figure of
Dunstan, spear held proudly erect. Although the
young man had never practiced at tilting, he felt
assured he could handle the weapon well enough in
combat, it rested so well in his hand now, and he was
proudly conscious of the attention it attracted.

When the pair reached the camp Evan assured
them that there were a few loose ends to tie up before
he could order a start, so they should see that all of
their gear was properly packed in the nonce. When he
complimented Dunstan on his new armaments, the
youth visibly swelled with pride. Evan shook his
head uncertainly, and hurried away to attend his
other affairs.

“Here,” said Dunstan, throwing his old garments
and worn buskins to Mellerd, “these are for you.”
Going through the other items he found the needles
and thread and gave them to the boy also. “You can
alter them to suit you, and after that practice there’ll
be plenty of sewing to be done for me.” He had put on
his leggings and jack, leaving the warm cloak for the
chill of night, and he stomped around in his new
boots trying to break them in as quickly as possible.
As an afterthought he added: “As a rule you will
carry my shield and lance until battle calls me, but
today I shall bear both as they are new, and I wish to
become accustomed to them.”

As Dunstan spoke, the lad had shucked off his
tattered smock and trousers to try on his new apparel.
Although he fairly swam in the clothing, he wore it
with great pleasure. There would be opportunity
tonight to make it fit with thread and needle. “You
are the best master a boy ever had!” Mellerd
exclaimed.

“YES,” affirmed Dunstan, “I suppose that is so.
Let us call it even . . . those garments for your services
up to today. It will be easier, that way, to reckon
the debt for the palfrey.”